


After the Rodeo

by srsly_yes



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, House Series Finale Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-06
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srsly_yes/pseuds/srsly_yes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House and Wilson acknowledge a slight shift in their behavior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Rodeo

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** Spoilers for 8x19, "The 'C' Word."  
>  **Disclaimer:** [H]ouse isn’t mine and never will be.  
>  **A/N:** A missing scene from "The 'C' Word." Inspired by a conversation with [](http://3rdgal.livejournal.com/profile)[**3rdgal**](http://3rdgal.livejournal.com/)  
> 

The days and nights following Wilson's ride on the bucking bull are filled with the same awkwardness as the morning after a wild night on the town. During his recuperation, it’s clear Wilson can only remember half of what happened, and House chooses to forget the other half.

He wakes up to the scent of fresh sheets, brewing coffee, and bacon. The breakfast aromas remind him that last night Wilson announced he was returning to his place right after they eat.

The living room no longer looks like an apocalyptic nightmare. Only a neatly packed carton, Whole Foods bag, and a backpack sit by the door. House flicks on the remote as he flops down on the sofa. He accepts a steaming plate of food from Wilson's outstretched hand.

They eat in near silence, snickering as a pseudo-authority spins his failed search for the lost ark into a win.

While Wilson cleans the dishes, House watches a guy reduce a derelict Coca Cola machine to dull gray sheet metal, nuts, and bolts. As the cooler comes back to life, sporting a juicy shade of red, he spies Wilson moving toward the door, swinging his backpack onto his shoulder.

House snatches the shopping bag off the floor, leaving the carton for Wilson, who hoists it under his arm. It's full of odds and ends. A first aid kit takes up much of the space. There's nothing heavy, but Wilson looks unsettled. His eyes linger a little too long on the bag House is holding.

While Wilson slides the box into the trunk, House ducks his head into the bag, his fingers digging stealthily to the bottom. He unearths the shiny, carousel-colored packaging of adult diapers. His head comes up just as Wilson turns around. The tightly pressed lips challenge him to say something—one last joke in public at his expense. House hands the bag over without a word. Any other time Wilson would be fair game, but not now.

Wilson accepts the bag with a nod and a sad smile.

 

.


End file.
